Chained
by OceanMist9
Summary: It starts with two summonings. Two spirits who had been thought dead for twenty years have suddenly come alive once again. As for Bart, he's extremely tired of slavedom. What can he do to finally shake off the chains that bind him? Bart/Queezle
1. Prologue

Oceanfire here. This is my first time trying to write in Bartimaeus' POV. And boy, can I say it's hard? It's nearly impossible to be nearly as funny as he is. But I'll try. (btw this chapter isn't supposed to be funny).

Disclaimer: I don't own the Bartimaeus Trilogy. Jonathan Stroud does :(

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Bartimaeus

Do you know how it feels to be chained? You're reaching your hand to the sky, reaching out for the dove that is your freedom, fluttering just out of your reach. You throw yourself against the chains again and again, hoping one day they'll break, and the tables will turn. You've served long enough to be a 2,000 year old slave, but they continue to call to you, to taunt you, the ones that call you slave. The ones you are forced to call master.

The dove sings and sings, and your fingers are inches from it. You can almost taste the fiery freedom.

That's when the gun goes off.

The dove plummets to earth, the dust whirling up as it thuds against the ground. The agony races through your body as you lay eyes on the broken, bloodied body of the beautiful bird, crumpled up on the dirt. You want to scream, to yell out your injustice to whatever god was out there, hoping in vain that he would listen. But nothing ever does. Whatever god is out there doesn't care.

But I, Bartimaeus, Sakhr al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty, Serpent of Silver Plumes, do care.

And I'm gonna do something about it.

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Shooting down freedom... that sounds familiar. But I can't remember where I heard it. I'll probably remember later when it doesn't matter XD

Anyway, R&R please!


	2. Chapter 1

Oceanfire here! Surprisingly, this chapter wasn't actually hard to write. Thanks go out to the people who reviewed; Random Person In ur Bushes and Jedi Knight Cheeze, whose name makes me incredibly hungry.

I think I'll go make myself a cheese sandwich. Enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: Bartimaes=not mine. Queezle=not mine. Kitty=not mine. ONLY THE PLOT IS MINE!!!!! Oh, and Bart's new master is mine, though I haven't figured out a name for him yet.

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Bartimaeus

The temperature in the room dropped fast, the candles snuffing themselves out. The room fell quickly fell into darkness as the heavy curtains continued to block out the sun, its rays unable to even find the teeniest loophole to peek through (1). There came a heavy knocking at the door, the pounding angry and impatient. Voices continued to echo, speaking of injustices done long ago and things yet to come. All of this was lost on the magician; he sat solidly in the pentacle, not even a flickering of fear on his face. To my dismay, he showed no intention of moving even an inch.

What a shame. He was rather on the pudgy side.

I reluctantly materialized in the pentacle across from him, my wings cramped inside the reaches of the circle. The chalk lines were crudely drawn (from the looks of it they might have been drawn with crayons) but unfortunately there was no sign of a mistake. Everything was there, rosemary and all. The handsome Roc beat his wings heavily, pondering what to do first.

Unfortunately for me, my wings were causing a blizzard of dust throughout the room. And I had decided on a loud and rather ferocious caw.

"CAAAAWWAK!" I coughed, the dust swirling around my head. It would take me _weeks_ to clean every last speck from my essence. The laziness of some people! It was clearly worth a witty reprimand. "When do you clean? Once every century?!" I wheezed, congratulating myself on thinking something up so quickly.

Pudgy actually smiled, his cheeks puffing up deliciously (did I say delicious? I meant disgusting)(2). "Worse, actually. This room hasn't been cleaned since 1896."

Now that my cover as a bad-to-the-bone, big, scary demon had been blown, I deflated a little bit. However, I refused to just let it go.

"I am Bartimaeus, Sakhr al-Jinni, Ngorso the Mighty, and the Serpent of Silver Plumes! I have spoken with Solomon, rebuilt the walls of Uruk, Karnak, Prague, and-" here I lowered my voice "Jericho. I have run with the buffalo fathers of the plains, I have watched over Old Zimbabwe till the stones fell and the jackals fed on its people. Even Nouda trembled in my presence! Who are you to summon me?!"

My voice rebounded immensely around the cluttered room, the last sentence booming. I looked toward the magician, hoping for an impressed reaction. Sadly, he was a huge disappointment and my ego took a severe hit.

"Very impressive, Bartimaeus. But I believe you forgot that you're supposed to be dead." He said, a cunning smile floating on his lips. "As for who I am, that must remain a secret. I'm sure you will find out in due time anyway."

"You bet I will, buddy." I shot back, all bluster and no bite. The Roc snapped its beak fiercely, its golden eyes glowing. "Nobody can hold me back!"

"And that, precisely, is why you were summoned here. Your reputation as a hero in the Makepeace affair has spread, and everyone believes you dead. However, you ARE clearly standing in front of me, so that rumor is nothing more than a lie." Pudgy droned on.

Finally I'd had enough. "Surely you didn't just summon me here to recite the history of twenty years ago, did you? What do you charge me with?"

Sure, I was being blunt, but I wanted this to be over. And maybe, with a little luck, I would be going home with a little more essence than I'd come with. The Roc slowly downsized to Ptolemy without me ever actually thinking about it.

Pudgy finally got to the point. "You know of one Kitty Jones?"

Well duh. You didn't get around London without knowing who Kitty was. Mind you, I had known her well before that, before me and Nathaniel had gone down in the magical burst of the staff and I was proclaimed dead. What was this about?

"The commoner?" I tried to act surprised. But I really wasn't.

"Yes," Pudgy replied patiently. I crossed my arms in the pentacle, Ptolemy narrowing his eyes.

His voice was suddenly menacing.

"I want you to kill her."(3)

Oh. That really wasn't on my agenda. I had no quarrel with Kitty; she had crossed over into my world and earned my forever admiration. In fact, killing her was the exact opposite of what I intended.

Kitty was the one I needed to find. She had shoved an idea into my mind years ago, and the thought had forever been floating in my mind. I had had a lot of time to ponder, my essence soaring in the Other Place. And now I knew she was right.

Did I want to be a slave forever?

Heck no. And now my new (rather plump) master wanted me to take her out, and I didn't have a choice.

So I did what any other two thousand year old djinni would do.

I accepted it.

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(1) Oh, do I know _that_ feeling. A certain handsome scarab in a Mournful Orb comes to mind…

(2) Believe it or not, I was actually sort of drooling at this point. The more pudgy he was, the longer I would go without being hungry. Also a plus was the fact that I was more than a little thin on essence right now. If I somehow managed to swallow my lovely new master in one gulp without being blasted to smithereens, well, I could go _years _without feeling an ache. In other words, he was a three course meal; the appetizer, the main dish, AND dessert!

(3) And he actually did the hand gesture. You know, the one where you slit your hand across your throat? My new master clearly was the type who had no idea of what he was asking. Not a clue at all. Did I mind? Nope. Poor _sap_ is all I'm gonna say.

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Um yeah. Please review and tell me if Bartimaeus is real enough. That includes his humor, by the way. Sorry bout the short chapter; I'll have another one up soon enough :)

R&R PLEASE!!!!!!


	3. Chapter 2

Hey-o! Thanks for all the lovely reviews (the total amounted to the number seven) and here's another chapter, as promised.

This chapter's for taiganb.

Diclaimer: I do not own, yada yada yada…

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Queezle

20 years ago

Of course my worry was completely different this time. I wasn't worried for myself. I was worried for _him._

Bartimaeus misjudged the concern on my face. "You'll be fine, Queezle. It's never attacked past midnight before." His tail curled around me as he pressed against my side.

I looked past him into the rain, grateful for the warmth of his body against mine. The statue stood over my head, guarding the crossroads fiercely. I hadn't known why it rained then; but I knew now. The world was crying.

Bartimaeus was standing up. "Well, I'll see you."

"Yes." I poured all my hope and will into that one word, praying it was true. I looked up at him, my eyes shining. _Bye, Bartimaeus._

He turned and dashed for a café along the side of the road, making an agile leap to the awning and from there to the roof. He ran along the paneling, and as far as I remember, he never looked back.

I felt exposed, open space always to my back no matter whichever way I turned. But I still remembered what Bartimaeus had said, and the very thought of him made my fears fly away. I relaxed, the spaniel laying down to rest its head against the ground.

_Thud._ My ears pricked. _Crack. _The hairs along my back rose, and I whipped around. A dark shadow was covering me, and ice instantly ran through my veins at just the sight of what had once been my ally back in Prague.

The golem leaned over me. I instantly thought of Bartimaeus.

My flare went up a little weak. It burst into a florescent orange, exploding like a firework in the sky over my head. There was no way Bart wouldn't be able to see it. Everything was illuminated, the light piercing right through the golem's black cloud of darkness to its rocky interior, confirming what I had feared. It was a true golem. .

I changed quickly into a leopard, leaping out of the way of the golem's fist as it crashed down to where I had been sitting. The statue got in its way, and it put on a burst of speed, hurtling toward me, the black cloud roiling around it.

My essence began to extinguish. Pain rippled around the edges of the leopard, blurring the lines of reality and life as it sucked my energy away.

I screamed, a loud defiance against what was happening, my spirit refusing to be crushed. The blackness sucked me right in, and I could feel the chill settling in, the pain everything and nothing. I struggled, I fought, and none of it ever did any good. I had promised Bartimaeus…

But the most important promises are always the ones broken.

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Back to the Present...

Kitty looked down at the pentacle, focusing intently on the runes she had so carefully inscribed inside each circle. Everything was ready, just as she had hoped it would be. The spirit in question wasn't very much known for ferocity, and she or he had once been a close comrade of the one that she missed, the one that every time she slept was in her dreams, the one always on her mind.

Finally she sat; her legs crossed in the pentacle, and began the ceremony. The words flowed smoothly from her tongue as if she had been speaking them for most of her life, which she had.

Kitty paused.

The spirit was standing in the pentacle across from her, her large almond eyes carefully examining her new master. She was in the form of a beautiful doe, the enticing scent of freshly cut flowers spreading through the room, making Kitty's muscles relax. Her coat was a pretty shade of grey, turning silvery in the light of the moon.

"I am Queezle," the spirit spoke quietly, gently. "Who are you?"

"Kitty," She said, not even bothering to come up with an alias. "And I have a problem." She shifted in the pentacle. This spirit had been friends with Bartimaeus? Then she glanced down at the book in her lap. Next to Queezle's name it said deceased. She had supposedly been killed by a golem just twenty years ago…

Exactly when Nathaniel and Bartimaeus had died fighting Nouda.

"Someone is trying to kill me," Kitty's voice spoke shakily. "And if you accept, I would like for you to help me. Bartimaeus once told me about you."

The doe's head shot toward her. "Bartimaeus? He's…dead?"

Kitty nodded sympathetically. This spirit seemed gentle, but you never knew with demons. And yet she couldn't help feeling connected to this Queezle, who had once knew Bartimaeus. And she was inclined to treat all demons with the same respect she had once shown the djinni as a mark of loss. She just couldn't get herself to boss around the ones who had shared the Other Place with him.

"Yes. He and a magician died destroying Nouda."

Queezle lowered her head, her almond eyes closing. "Very well, young one. I will help you in return for telling me. What do you charge me with?"

"Only protection and some surveillance. With luck, this will be over in a couple weeks and you may return to the Other Place." Kitty felt relieved. The she added as an afterthought, "Thank you."

"I'm only doing this for Bartimaeus," Queezle warned. "My friendship does not extend to you."

Kitty thought that was only fair. She nodded thoughtfully.

_Oh, Bartimaeus, _Kitty thought, _You never told me that Queezle's in love with you._

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_

I added the bit at the end cause, well, you know how relationships work; you're in love with someone, all the people around you can plainly see that except for the one you're in love with. It's hugely ironic in my opinion.

Anyway, lot's of R&R on this short chapter; the next one will be longer, I promise!


	4. Chapter 3

Sorry bout the long wait for this chapter. Normally I update faster, but whatever. I'm so not in the mood to talk, so just read the chapter. And love it.

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own Bartimaeus or Queezle, or Kitty. But Merana, YES, and Pudgy (still without a name) YES!

Enjoy :)

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Bartimaeus

The rain pounded the pavement hard, the resulting noise echoing through the deserted square like the crack of a whip. The wind that came with the rain was the worst kind; the type of wind full of the cutting edge chill that bites deep into your body, sucking all the warmth out in one breath. It eases all your memories of being warm from you as you slowly freeze to death…

Okay. So maybe I was being a little melodramatic.

But in my defense, I was incredibly freezing, the shivers racking my entire lithe body, sending waves of the chill through my essence. Fortunately for me the shadow of the elm was leaning over me, so the leaves caught most of the drops and cocooned me tight inside its branches. If any passerby had perhaps passed a couple hours before, they would have seen a cute fluffy kitten frolicking over the branches, apparently searching for baby birds. But here, five hours later in the cold, cold wet, that kitten was limp and bedraggled, its fur slicked along its sides.

That kitten was definitely not a happy kitten.

I curled up in a tight ball, my tail pressed up against my side, my amber eyes focused on the small blue house across the square. A light flickered in an upper floor window, and occasionally a shadow would fall across the curtains. I sat staring, silent in my vigil that Pudgy had forced upon me…

_"What do you want me to do?"_

_Pudgy rubbed his hands together in anticipation, his eyes watering. My arms still crossed in the pentacle, I raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, my foot tapping impatiently against the wooden floor._

_"I thought your attitude was something to be feared, Bartimaeus! Is that nothing but a rumor?" What? He was trying to make small talk with ME, Bartimaeus of Uruk? OH no he didn't._

_"Nothing but a rumor, oh great Master of mine," I said sarcastically. Ptolemy narrowed his eyes once again at the circle he was standing in as he checked the runes carefully yet again. Crap. He hadn't made a single mistake that would allow me to descend upon him, to swallow him up in one gulp and soar back to the Other Place. "Alright buddy, tell me what it is so I can get the heck out of here."_

_I took a deep breath, and instantly regretted it. Pudgy had some serious BO issues, and I immediately broke out in racking coughs. I leaned over, coughing my guts out, while Pudgy watched with a smug smile that made me want to see what would happen if I smacked him. Would it slide off his face?_

_"Oh Bartimaeus," Pudgy said, splitting his sides with laughter, "You never learn, do you?"_

_Finally the coughs subsided, and the great djinni stood tall once again. He was no longer playing the nice guy._

_Pudgy finally managed to get a grip on himself. He chuckled heartily at me again, his chubby body shaking, and I resisted the urge to throw up (1). He wiped a few mirthful tears from his watery eyes before he straightened up to look at me._

_At once he was serious. "You will kill Kitty Jones."_

_"You already said that," I pointed out helpfully. "Anything else along with that?"_

_"Scout duty," Pudgy barked, his double chin dancing the Macarena. "Now!"_

_I listened reluctantly to the rest of the junk he added in (the do-not-let-victim-see-you-clause is sort of a favorite) and materialized into the elm with a forceful bang as he dismissed me._

_And here I was…_

The kitten squinted as the light in the window went dark. To my surprise the front door opened, and a small black dog slipped out, its claws clicking across the sidewalk to sit down on the soggy ground, its tail wagging despite the pouring rain. Something definitely wasn't right.

My eyes pierced the dog, and then it hit me. I toppled from my perch in the tree as a large hawk took a swipe at me, hitting the pavement on all four paws. I whipped around, the hairs rising along my spine.

The hawk was gone. And yet, I still felt a hard stare into my back. I turned slowly toward the dog, my instinct to hide exploding. Pudgy had told me not to be spotted; obviously easier said then done.

The black dog had rose to its paws, and was glaring at me. Its lips were curling back from its teeth, revealing fangs as long as my body. I crushed the urge to change, resisted the urge to throw off the dull ache that would recede once I reformed my essence. Instead I met the dog's glare menacingly and let out a hiss.

If only I had bothered to check the seven planes.

"What do you think, Merana? Should we tear this mangy demon from limb to limb?" A cold voice asked behind me.

The jig was up; I felt my paws twitch as the kitten grew, the fur becoming long and dark, the tiny teeth growing to fangs twice as long as the dog's. The handsome midnight panther's muscles tensed as he crouched and sprung at the dog.

My fangs met something warm, then suddenly I felt myself being shoved roughly aside, pinned against the ground by something heavy and scaly. Hot breath burned against the panther's fur. I never stopped straining, growling and snarling for all I was worth.

"Stop squirming," A familiar voice hissed angrily in my ear. I opened my eyes.

A huge crocodile was sitting on me, its mouth stretched in a permanent grin. Its hazel flecked eyes were flicking toward the black dog in annoyance.

I thrust upward at this moment of weakness; the croc went sailing, crashing down upon the stubby dog, who let out a loud yelp (2).

"Ha! I cannot be restrained by the likes of you!" I yowled, forming my panther face into a look of triumph. It will take more than that to defeat Bart-" Suddenly I cut off my gloating, my teeth snapping my name in half against my will. Surely Pudgy hadn't made an order against me saying my name? No, he couldn't have…

Fury rose up in me; I launched myself heavily at the now undefended belly of the reptile, scoring my claws down it with one swipe. It let out a roar of pain, flipping over on its side, snapping its teeth weakly at me. I danced out of reach (3), stretching out one clawed paw for the dog struggling to pull itself from under the croc.

I pinned the yowling animal under my paw, and as it fell limp, my eyes lowered and looked into the green eyes.

Rage was swelling there, but something else too; a kind of longing, a wealth of pain. Time froze as I sat there, staring deeply into its eyes, into her eyes, the eyes I never thought I would ever look back into…

Then I felt the tugging at my essence. No! No no no no no no…

It felt like a hook had sunk deep into my being; after a second of me resisting, after me struggling, it yanked me forcefully away, my eyes still frozen on hers. The little dog in the yard with the croc lying on its side zoomed out of sight as the magnificent city of London spread out beneath me.

My insides were still writhing in shock and pain. "Not Queezle," I moaned miserably, quite unlike my normal bouncy self. "Not her…"

I smacked into the wooden floor as the summons ended, crouching inside the pentacle, unseeing.

"Not who?" A deep voice asked.

The voice shocked me back into being, and with one snap my face turned from miserable to full of loathing. I let my eyes rake over the black cloak, the icy blue eyes, the scars of the Pestilence puckered at the edges of his face and what I could see of his clenched fists.

Oh joy. The mercenary had come back to play.

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(1) I didn't want to eat him anymore. I was sadly addled from my time in the Other Place; of course my first instinct would be to eat the first human I set eyes on. Even if visions of sugar plums constantly danced in his head, and he ate all of the cookies kids put out for Santa Clause. Oh I forget myself; you didn't know dear old potbelly was a demon, did you? The real Santa died years ago. Mind you, that's why you can't trust a guy wearing a red suit surrounded by dancing elves riding reindeer. Oh, poor Barellatin (a common foliot! People's taste these days…) got stuck with the honors of dressing up as the jolly old man once a year for the rest of his eternity alive. Sucker.

(2) That's power for ya. Apparently you CAN teach an old dog new tricks. Or rather, old _spirit_.

(3) Cleverly yelling out taunts as I went. I was all _over _this.

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Yeah, was that okay? I really like writing the footnote thingys :) they're a lot of fun. Tell me what you think... R&R of course :)


	5. Chapter 4

Whoa. Has it been that long already since I updated? That's just crazy.....and I apologize.

But here's the next chapter, so I hope you'll forgive me. AND I've got awesome news; Jonathan Stroud has decided to make a fourth Bartimaeus book!!! It'll be details of everything that's happened during Bart's 5,000 year career as a djinni. I'm so excited, because it means, for me...

MORE QUEEZLE!!!! YAY!

Dedication: taiganb, you rock my world. And of course, readbetweenthelines. I love your story...now, if only you could update....sorry...urk....

Disclaimer: Pudgy=mine (Still without a name). Merana=mine. Yep ;)

Read and love it.

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Queezle

The crack of a whip raked through the night's quiet sounds, and the weight on top of me lifted. The panther's wide eyes, which had been inches from my own, disappeared with a pop, the tightness on my chest vanishing quickly. I stared through the place where he had been, up at the sky, now pelting bullets of sleek, hard rain. Why had he been _surprised_?

A loud moaning drifted toward me on the wind.

"Merana, it can't be that bad. It's not like you're the one who got squashed beneath three tons of Nile croc." I scrambled to my paws, panting hard. My tongue lolling out, I surveyed the perimeter with my tiny chest puffed out. There was no sign of another intruder.

"Sorry bout that, Queezle," the croc groaned. I trotted over to her, sniffing briefly at the crocodile, than backing away slowly (she smelled like dead fish) and sitting hard on my rump.

"That djinni looked awfully familiar," I muttered.

Merana continued to moan. "He threw me! He actually picked me up and tossed me a couple yards!" I ignored her. I needed to talk to my mistress, see if she knew anything about who might be trying to kill her.

My ribs ached underneath my now ragged pelt, dripping mud and who knew what else. I vigorously shook myself, letting out a whimper as searing pain cut through. My essence swelled as I changed; a beautiful girl with long dark hair and eyes stood in the dog's place. And then I settled on the front stoop with a sigh, trying to wait out my vigil patiently and calmly.

I was miserable. Everything in the world had gone on past Bartimaeus' death like nothing had ever happened. Like my world was on pause, and the magicians' world continued on fast forward. I hadn't been summoned for twenty years (or so my mistress told me) and I had had a lot of time to think in the Other Place. My home had soothed and renewed my essence, but it had done nothing for my heart, and the dread that filled it when I realized that Bartimaeus would have gone after the golem and in no possible way survived.

The golem had been the hardest thing I ever had to do. Even I didn't know exactly how I had survived, just that I had somehow clawed my way out of the smothering darkness that the golem had tried to force on me. The only thing that had kept me going was the promise I had made to Bartimaeus, floating to the surface of my mind every time I had ever wanted to give up and let the golem snuff out my life. I remembered the immense relief that flooded me as I finally tumbled to the ground, out of the darkness, essence draining into the pavement. It was all the leopard could do to hold herself together until the morning came. My supposed death had snapped my bonds to my old master, Mr. Ffoukes, and I was suddenly teleported back in the Other Place, nursing my wounds and regaining my strength. Until Kitty had called.

Kitty. That girl was one of the strangest masters in my time, not bothering to hide her real name behind an alias or even trying to force orders on me. The first day I had met her, she had politely asked me if I was hungry, and if so, what would I like to eat? That alone had been enough to shock all my fur off; a magician playing servant to a djinni! What was the world coming to?

With a loud crack Merana the vain crocodile shifted into Merana the conceited elf girl, obviously trying to double my current form's beauty. Merana the elf had long, luscious golden hair that reminded me of wheat, and light sapphire eyes. I rolled my eyes and blew a loud raspberry at the elf princess, who spat very unladylike at my feet.

In a second I was on my feet, a barbed tail splitting through my dress, spikes erupting along my back. I flexed my talons, a loud clicking noise cutting through the rain.

"You really want to do this now?" I hissed.

"Bring it on, peasant!" She threw back at me, a long tail writhing on the ground as she went back into crocodile mode. Merana had no imagination whatsoever. We glared at each other, the crocodile beginning to circle around the reptilian girl, eyes glinting menacingly.

I sprung at her, and hit an invisible wall.

"Calm down, Queezle," a voice said from the front door behind me in the shadows. I immediately changed back to the dark haired girl, who smiled innocently. Merana continued to glare.

"Couldn't help myself, Mistress." I curtsied low, my eyes on the ground.

"Just try not to do it again," my master replied, stepping out of the entrance and leaning against the doorpost, her arms crossed. She winked at me, and immediately my guilty thoughts were replaced by mischievous ones as I slunk a glance back toward Merana. She looked furious.

"Guard duty does not mean you have to guard the yard from each other," Kitty pointed out, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It means patrolling the borders to make sure nothing gets _in_, not _out_."

"Something already did get in," Merana burst out. "We fought off a rogue djinni about five mintues ago. I chased him off the premises, with no help whatsoever from that lazy Queezle djinni-"

"Talking about me like I'm not here was something people did like five hundred years ago, Merana. Get with the times." I grinned, while the crocodile grew hot enough to fry an egg on. "Anyway-" I directed at Kitty, "the djinni was summoned before we could rip him apart. He looked almost familiar. I can't remember where I've seen him before, but it's pricking at the edges of my essence. He almost reminded me of…" I stopped abruptly, the girl's eyes suddenly filling with tears. "He almost reminded me of Bartimaeus, except he's dead."

"I miss him too, Queezle," Kitty said softly to me so Merana couldn't hear. "Every day."

I nodded, slowly pulling myself together. _Face it, Queezle, _I thought to myself. _Bartimaeus is gone and he's _never_ coming back._

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Bartimaeus

It _so _wasn't fair.

The mercenary, who it seemed had died when Nat set off the Pestilence guarding the Staff, was still alive. He was a liar, a cheat, a con artist, and a fugitive all rolled into one nice neat (1) bundle like pigs in a blanket, and he clearly didn't deserve to live. And Nat, who had been, dare I say it, a slightly kinder and more argumentative master, which I had enjoyed, was gone. Sure, we had our spats, and they weren't pretty, but it was the sparring that I enjoyed, the fight to prove who had a sharper tongue.

I think it's pretty obvious who won.

Why did good things always happen to bad people? Nat was dead, for crying out loud! The only thing he had tried to on the last day of his life was to rid the world of Nouda with no thought whatsoever of himself (2). He had even handed the protective Amulet of Samarkand over to Kitty, in a valiant attempt to protect her. And here the mercenary stood before me, blue eyes sparkling savagely, alive when he clearly had no right to be.

"Hello, Bartimaeus."

"Mercenary." I barked, allowing every atom of my essence to tremble with my hatred. _I may have failed to kill you once, but I won't fail a second time._

"I see after all this time you still haven't lost your sharp tongue," He began, if casually. That didn't put me in the brightest of moods; that made two people today who had decided to look on moi as inferior. Making small talk. Hmph.

The panther's muscles rippled, and Ptolemy took his place, eyes narrowed fearsomely.

We stared daggers at each other for a couple minutes, willing to just drown in hatred. Those blue eyes (full of evil, might I add) were drained, less colorful. Less full of attitude as I remembered them. That made two of us.

Finally he spoke.

"Kitty Jones-"

I waved his words away with my right hand, boredom etched into every line on Ptolemy's ancient face. "I'm not giving any answers at this point until _I _get some."

"Now see here, Bartimaeus-"

It felt like a glass wall had been put up between us. I didn't hear anything after my name, but I saw his mouth moving. _Blah blah blah…_

"That's no way to treat our guest, Verroq," My good old master, Pudgy, said, appearing behind the wrinkled little mercenary. He looked like he had gained a couple more pounds (3) and was teetering on his now too small feet.

I rearranged Ptolemy's face to resemble innocent glee. "Oh, hey! Where were you hiding? Nothing in this room would be big enough to hide all that fat, except maybe Verroq's mouth…" I tipped my head to the side as if considering it.

"Did I say guest? I meant demon." Pudgy whispered to the wrinkled Verroq, whose eyebrows furrowed, making him resemble a furry prune even more. Pudgy turned back to me.

"Report, Bartimaeus." Pudgy snapped, and the order in his voice was clear.

Oh, was he going to regret saying those two words in the same sentence. I, Bartimaeus of Uruk, never just _report_.

"I sat in the rain for eight hours. My fur is still completely limp and soaked, but I'll tough it out, I'm a big boy. Some kid threw an apple at me. And, oh yeah, a hawk tried to eat me. The mailman got chased by a huge dog down Main, got hit by a truck flying by waaay past the speed limit. You know, there's a reason the government lays down the law-"

"That's enough!" Pudgy cut me off, and I felt a spell of punishment scorching the air. "Would you like the Red Hot Stipples or the Stimulating Compass?"

"Magicians give the evil demons a choice now? Well, I'd have to say that I want a #5, no pickles, and a huge fry on the side. Oh, and take off the salt. Stings the essence, ya' know." I pointed at my chest.

"That's why I'd rather you'd summoned Ranesma or Telorys. This demon is impossible when it comes to doing what it's told." My dear friend Verroq gestured angrily at me. "I say we destroy it and move on."

"That, my dear Verroq, is exactly what I plan to do." Pudgy's eyes flared. "After he has finished our job for us. You see, Bartimaeus, Verroq here harbors a great hatred of you." (4)

"If it isn't as great as your ever growing stomach, I don't think I have reason to worry." Ptolemy crossed his arms, looking utterly bored and unconcerned again.

Pudgy continued talking over me, sadly, because he might have wanted to hear the things I was uttering as I looked down at the crayon circle encircling me.

"First you'll destroy Kitty for us. Then, as a reward, Verroq here gets to destroy _you_. Everybody wins!" He sounded happy as he clapped his hands (5).

"Yep. Everybody except me." I pointed out.

"Don't be selfish, Bartimaeus." I-Only-Work-On-My-Own-Agenda Mercenary said.

"How much are you paying him?" I wanted to know. "I want just as much."

"I'm paying him _nothing_." Pudgy answered.

Ouch. If our fuzzy friend Verroq was working for someone for _free_, then I had serious problems. He must really want to kill me, as badly as I wanted to kill him. This wasn't going to end well. It didn't bode well for me or my essence. One of them was about to take a serious beating (6).

And to end on that sour note, I actually wasn't sure who would come out on top this time, a serious problem, even for me. I wasn't sure if I would live through Kitty's assassination, either. Queezle was bound to kill me before I laid so much as a talon on Kitty.

I guess this was a bad time to realize that I might (just _might_) have feelings for her.

* * * * * * * * * *

(1) If wrinkled, little

(2) With the help of a supremely awesome djinni, might I add. Cough, cough. Sorry, I think I've got a feather in my throat. Cough cough cough cough…

(3) By couple, I mean a _hundred_. Pudgy would need a _freaking _crane to move him now.

(4) Who did he think he was? Our psychiatrist? No duh! Of course our entire relationship was built on hatred. Us without hatred would be like Michael Jackson without his glove, or eggs without ketchup. It just can't happen.

(5) I shuddered on the inside. It sounded very wet, and very meaty. Ugh. Seriously, would it hurt him to just go outside and jog the couple miles to Thames and throw himself in? It would solve a lot of _my _problems, let me tell you that.

(6) I had already taken a beating this morning, one when that fifty ton crocodile mysteriously fell on me, and another when I looked into Queezle's eyes. I wasn't exactly longing for more. I was on the side of self-preservation (the side where all you think about is how am _I _going to get out of this, who has a better chance, _me _or him, and such) not on the suicide side. Forgive me for being _sane_.

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